Breathe
by Sherlocked95
Summary: AU Modern; established relationship; Merthur. Based on the AU drabbles in Endlessly but can be read alone. Rated M for language and some themes. Prompts welcome. A work in progress. Slash.
1. Kigurumis

"_Mer_lin," Arthur asked incredulously from the doorway. "What the _hell _is going on?"

Merlin barely flicked a glance in his direction. He was sprawled lazily on the sofa, his feet on Mordred's lap. In fact, the whole group of friends were there; Leon, Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan and Mordred. Arthur could hear Gwen, Freya and Morgana laughing in the kitchen of their small flat.

And they were all wearing fucking _onesies_. They ranged in colour and ridiculousness, but they were all animal based. Merlin wore a blue rabbit one and didn't seem to notice Arthur's sheer confusion as the group of men in brightly coloured animal onesies watched an episode of classic _Doctor Who_. Empty pizza boxes and cups of fizzy drink littered the living room. Gwaine munched on a bag of crisps.

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face, straining to remain calm. He'd had a long and pretty bloody stressful day at work and he'd spent the last hour and a half in a crowded supermarket in the blistering heat getting the groceries. He'd wanted to come home, have dinner with Merlin and spend a quiet, relaxing evening watching TV, having a bath and then bed with his boyfriend.

_Instead_ he'd come home to discover that said boyfriend had thrown an impromptu fucking _slumber _party with onesies and junk food without telling him. He really wasn't in the mood for this. He glared icily at Merlin and strode towards the kitchen. The three girls – also in the ridiculous onesies – all greeted him when he entered. He ignored them and started to unpack the shopping.

"Arthur?" Merlin's arms slipped around his waist, his fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket. "I missed you."

Arthur shrugged free from his hold, gritting his teeth to hold in his anger.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, uncertain. "What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_? What's _bloody wrong_?" Arthur exploded, rounding on the other man. "What's _wrong_, Merlin, is that I've had a really shit day at work and I want nothing more than to relax. But instead you've decided to throw a party in _our _flat without having the decency to tell me!"

Merlin looked apologetic. "Arthur, I..."

"I mean, a fucking _slumber _party, Merlin? With _onesies_?"

"Kigurumis," Merlin corrected quietly.

"Seriously, Merlin, what are you? A twelve year old girl?"

Merlin's entire posture went rigid. His apologetic expression shifted to a blank one, but there was pain and anger in his blue eyes. Arthur realised what he'd just said and swore loudly.

It had taken a long time for Merlin to finally tell Arthur what his childhood was like. Arthur was bisexual and had only really noticed his attraction to men quite late in his teenage years. By then he'd established a close group of friends who didn't judge him for it. His family were accepting of it, too. He'd had it fairly easy.

Merlin's story, however, was a lot different. He'd known from his early teens that he was gay. His mother accepted him but his father loathed his son. He neglected his son and eventually Hunith divorced him, wanting to protect her son. But Merlin blamed himself for the divorce. At school he'd been bullied horribly for years because of his sexuality. He didn't have any friends. He was beaten, mocked, once hurt badly enough to be put in hospital for a fortnight. He changed schools frequently and only just got the grades to get into university. He'd been a recluse, isolating himself to avoid further torment, and that was how Arthur found him. He'd brought him out of his shell and made him the man he was today. But his past still haunted him.

Merlin had told him some of the things the boys used to say when they beat him. 'Fag', 'bender', the usual homophobic slurs. But the one that hurt Merlin the most, the one he truly hated, the one that made him want to kill himself sometimes, was the when his dad used to call him a little girl.

"You're just a girl, Merlin, a sick little bastard who thinks he's a girl."

Merlin had repeated his father's words that night. Arthur had held him until dawn, trying to ease the pain still lingering in his partner's heart.

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face. "Christ, Merlin, I didn't mean that. Of course I didn't. I'm just tired and stressed and just frustrated, I guess."

Merlin's expression didn't change. "I wanted to surprise you. You've been stressed recently and I thought you'd appreciate the gesture. An opportunity to relax and have fun with our friends."

Arthur immediately felt like a complete and utter tosser. Merlin had been trying to help him and he'd responded by acting like a massive prick. And he'd called Merlin a girl. He wanted to kick himself.

"Merlin..." he stepped forward, reaching for his partner.

"Don't," he flinched away.

Arthur inhaled sharply, pain hitting him straight in the chest. Fuck, he'd really messed up with what he'd said. How did he fix this?

Merlin's expression was cold as he turned his back on Arthur and walked away, his posture still rigid. Morgana, Gwen and Freya were quiet, their gazes on the table in front of them. Arthur felt too shitty right now to care that they'd just witnessed a pretty nasty fight. After a moment he followed Merlin into the living room.

Merlin was sprawled on the sofa again, his legs on Mordred's lap. The ache in Arthur's heart increased. Mordred was hopeless in hiding his crush on Merlin. He didn't act on it in front of Arthur, but Leon had warned him that Mordred had been making subtle moves when Arthur wasn't there. Merlin, sweet, naive Merlin, was oblivious to Mordred's crush on him and even if he did know, Arthur knew his partner would never cheat on him. But it still made him feel bitter to see Merlin so close to Mordred.

"You know," Gwaine murmured in Arthur's ear when he sat down next to the Irishman. "Merlin wasted a lot of his hard earned money on getting you one too. It's in the bedroom."

Another pang of guilt hit Arthur. Christ, he was the worst boyfriend in the universe. Why did Merlin put up with him? He was such a total prat towards him sometimes. One day Merlin would get sick of it and leave. The idea hurt beyond imagination and Arthur jumped to his feet.

He glanced towards the sofa. Mordred was fucking _petting_ Merlin's feet. He clenched his fists and quickly made his way into the bedroom. Gwaine was right; Merlin had gotten one for Arthur too. One identical to Merlin's except in pale pink rather than pale blue.

A fond smile touched his lips. Merlin had gotten them matching kigurumis. Something so ridiculous shouldn't have made Arthur love him even more, but it did. He kicked off his shoes and stripped out of his expensive suit, pulling on a pair of boxers and a shirt. He shrugged on the kigurumi and zipped it up. He even pulled the hood up so the rabbit ears stood up straight on top of his head.

He returned to the living room and was met with a round of loud laughter and cat calls. He ignored the teasing and looked at Merlin. His lover was looking up at him with a breathtaking grin on his face, all traces of anger gone. He looked overjoyed that Arthur was wearing the matching suit and Arthur knew he was forgiven.

Mordred looked up at Arthur and shifted to the floor beside Leon, a small smile on his face. Arthur gave him a stiff nod and nudged Merlin out of the way so he could lie on the sofa. He tugged Merlin down to join him, nestled between his legs, his back against Arthur's chest and his head nestled on the crook of his shoulder. Arthur wrapped his arms around his partner's torso and buried his nose against his dark hair.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I really didn't mean it. I'm the world's worst boyfriend and the biggest prat in existence."

"Biggest prat in existence, yes. World's worst boyfriend, definitely not. You're wearing a pink rabbit onesie for me, after all." Merlin pointed out smugly. "I know you didn't mean it and you're forgiven. I love you."

Arthur closed his eyes, tightening his hold minutely. "I love you so much."

"I know you do. I'm adorable."

Arthur grinned. "That you are. Twenty six years old and you throw a bloody pyjama party. You're impossible, you know that?"

"But you put up with me anyway," Merlin sighed happily.

"Always."

* * *

**For those of you who have read_ Endlessly_, you'll recognise this as one of the AU drabbles from that. I loved writing this particular dynamic so I decided to create this spin off :)**

**Also, although the drabbles will form a story arc, they won't be chronological. Some will be later on in their relationship and others will be right at the start.**

**Prompts welcome.**

**Next chapter will be up soon.**


	2. Living For You

Arthur hummed happily when a gentle brush of fingertips against his lips woke him up. He could feel the sun filtering through the window and rolled onto his stomach, not wanting to open his eyes just yet.

When he finally did, he felt his lips curl up into a smile. Merlin was awake – of course he was – and stretched out lazily in the sun like a cat. He was playing a game on his phone but his free hand continued to trace Arthur's features absently. It wasn't often Merlin touched Arthur in the mornings – normally he barely acknowledged his presence until breakfast – so he kept still, wanting to drag the moment out for as long as possible.

"Good morning," he finally spoke, his voice thick with sleep. "Did you get any sleep?"

Merlin shrugged in answer and Arthur knew that was a resounding _no_. He made a mental note to ensure Merlin had at least two hours of sleep when he got back from work.

There was a slight amount of stubble along Merlin's jaw and Arthur held his breath, studying the man stretched out beside him. He was tall – slightly taller than Arthur himself – and slim. He rarely put on an ounce of weight due to his weird eating habits. But Arthur had discovered that the skinny body concealed lean muscles and the man was surprisingly strong. He was paler than most people with a mop of dark hair and rich blue eyes.

The slightly too large ears should have made his face goofy and boyish, but the sharp cheekbones balanced them out perfectly, giving the boyish charm a gorgeous edge. And when he hadn't shaved and there was dark stubble...well, it was hard to resist.

He shuffled on the bed until he was pressed against Merlin's side through the duvet and pushed up onto his elbow, pressing his lips to his partner's jaw. The stubble rasped perfectly against his lips and he hummed, scraping his teeth gently against Merlin's skin.

Merlin didn't look up from his phone. He'd moved to accommodate Arthur's knew position and his long fingers carded through Arthur's hair lightly, but he otherwise ignored the other man.

After a few minutes he won the game and dropped his phone onto his stomach, stretching languidly. He turned his head to stare at Arthur for a moment.

"Shower," he finally murmured and rolled off the bed.

Arthur waited until he heard the click of the bathroom door shut before rolling onto his back and throwing his arm over his face with a sigh. Sometimes...sometimes it was incredibly difficult.

He lingered in the comfortably warmth of the bed for a few more minutes before reluctantly getting up. He had to go to work.

His eyes fell on the calendar on his clock and he grinned.

_Plus..._

He listened to the sound of the shower as he moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast; scrambled eggs, fruit and orange juice for him and a small bowl of cereal and coffee for Merlin.

Merlin entered the kitchen wearing only black jeans – _undone_ jeans – and drying his dark hair with a towel. Arthur took a moment to enjoy the view before approaching his partner.

"I have something for you," he murmured.

Merlin glanced at the breakfast and around the kitchen before looking at Arthur, confusion in his blue eyes. Arthur held out a card and a giftbox. It had been incredibly difficult to find and purchase the leather bound collection of one of Merlin's favourite writers' – Oscar Wilde – works but he looked forward to seeing Merlin's reaction.

"Happy anniversary," he added cheerfully.

Merlin stared at him blankly. "Anniversary?"

"We've been together for a year," Arthur reminded him, a sinking feeling in his chest. He shouldn't be surprised that Merlin didn't remember, but it still hurt.

"Arthur..." Merlin ran a hand through his ruffled hair, frowning. "I don't...I mean..."

The realisation hit Arthur hard. "You don't understand anniversaries?"

Merlin shook his head slowly. Arthur closed his eyes, swallowing hard. Yes, sometimes it was incredibly difficult to love Merlin. Sometimes it was too difficult for him to deal with calmly. Sometimes he just wanted to leave.

"_Anniversaries_, Merlin, are a way to celebrate a couple's love for one another." He explained tightly, opening his eyes.

Merlin continued to stare at him blankly, not comprehending. Arthur wanted to punch him. Considering he was one of the most emotionally volatile people he knew, sometimes Merlin could be a cold son of a bitch.

"Forget it," he threw the card and gift onto the counter and disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

He didn't bother showering, instead throwing on his work clothes and brushing through his hair. He grabbed his bag and left, walking right past Merlin on his way to the front door. His fingers were on the latch when Merlin spoke from the living room.

"Don't go."

His voice caught on the second word. A shudder rippled through Arthur. It had been a long time since he'd heard Merlin sound so...broken. He rested his forehead against the cool wood of the door, closing his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to escape and go to work early, to avoid this just for a little while. But he knew doing so would fuck Merlin up and he didn't want to be the cause of a relapse. The thought made his chest clench painfully. _No,_ he couldn't leave.

He turned and dropped his bag onto the floor. He gazed at Merlin for a moment before approaching him. He stopped a couple of feet away and sat down, cross legged, on the floor. Merlin copied him.

"I love you, Merlin," Arthur spoke softly.

Merlin flinched slightly and Arthur sighed. It had taken a long time before he'd been able to say those words without Merlin reacting badly. It had taken even longer before Merlin reacted _positively _to them. He felt warmth flush his body as he remembered that night.

"I know you won't say it back," he continued, voice tight. "And that's...fine, I guess. I mean, I understand why. But sometimes you can be a real unemotional bastard."

Merlin blinked, looking confused by this.

"Arthur, I would die for you."

Arthur's gaze snapped to Merlin's face, his breath catching in shock. At first, happiness surged through him. If that wasn't a declaration of Merlin's devotion, then he didn't know what was. Maybe...maybe things were changing...

But then he saw the innocent sincerity in Merlin's blue eyes and he swallowed. Sure, he'd gladly die if it meant Merlin was safe, but what Merlin was saying was different. Arthur could see it in the other man's eyes; he'd easily crawl on his belly over broken glass if it made Arthur happy.

The realisation hit Arthur like a freight train and it took him a moment to remember how to breathe. It was the most beautiful and most painful thing Merlin had ever said to him.

"I'd rather you lived for me," he said around the lump in his throat.

"Gladly," Merlin's expression softened into a smile.

He moved forward onto his knees and reached out, taking Arthur's hand. Arthur followed his lead, rolling onto his knees and gazing at the other man, holding his breath in anticipation. Merlin pressed Arthur's hand flat against his chest where his heart was. Arthur closed his eyes as he felt the heartbeat.

"This is me, living for you," Merlin murmured. "I...I..." he made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat.

"It's okay," Arthur assured him. "You don't have to say it, not until you're ready. I already know."

Merlin looked relieved and Arthur smiled, leaning forward to kiss him softly.

"I love you," he promised.

Merlin grinned at the words and they got to their feet, Arthur wincing slightly at the dull throb in his legs. The floor wasn't particularly comfortable. Without a word, Merlin turned and walked into the kitchen, the picture of ease.

"You're going to be late for work," he called over his shoulder.

Arthur rolled his eyes with a sigh. He should have expected it, really. Merlin often wrote off breakthroughs as if they'd never happened. Sometimes he could be such a twat.

"When does your shift start?" Arthur asked, taking the time to button his coat up properly now he wasn't so angry.

"Ten."

Arthur glanced at the food on the table. "Will you eat before you go?"

Merlin looked at Arthur before giving a quick nod.

"Thank you."

Arthur leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the other man's lips before heading towards the front door.


	3. Ice Cream

Arthur noticed the difference in Merlin's disposition as soon as he found his partner in the kitchen, cradling a cold cup of coffee.

Merlin had odd sleeping habits. He didn't sleep at night and barely had naps during the day, yet he managed to survive on such little sleep. Normally when Arthur woke Merlin was either in bed with him reading or curled up on the sofa watching TV.

But today Merlin had bags underneath his eyes, as if he'd fallen asleep only to be woken by nightmares. He was more jittery than normal and his eyes had a hollow look to them.

He'd seen this image before. It had terrified him to see Merlin as lost as he'd been when they first met at university. But three weeks after possibly the most terrifying day of Arthur's life, Merlin explained. It was the four year anniversary of the day Will, his only childhood friend, had died. They'd been close – close enough that Arthur had felt a little uncomfortable with the idea of it – and his death had affected Merlin badly. With his family problems and the bullying, Will's death on top of it caused Merlin to spiral out of control and become the man he'd been when Arthur first noticed him. And every year on the anniversary of Will's death, Merlin relapsed.

Arthur glanced at the calendar; today marked five years exactly since Will died. He closed his eyes briefly before walking into the kitchen. Wordlessly, he took Merlin's cup, poured out the cold coffee and replaced it with fresh.

He preferred hot breakfasts but Merlin tended to survive on only a tiny bowl of cereal. In fact cereal was pretty much all he ate and not much of it. It both annoyed and worried Arthur but his attempts at encouraging Merlin to eat always failed so he'd given up arguing.

He poured Merlin a bowl of cereal and placed it on the table in front of him. Merlin glanced down at it but didn't make a move to lift the spoon. Arthur bit into his toast and watched Merlin for a full ten minutes, but he didn't take a single bite or sip of his breakfast. He closed his eyes, dread sinking into his stomach. _Not this again_. Sometimes Merlin refused to eat or drink. Once it got bad enough that he collapsed and had to be taken to hospital. Arthur hated it. He was torn between wanting to punch Merlin for making him feel so useless and terrified about the welfare of the man he loved and wanting to hold him, to do anything to fix him.

"Merlin," Arthur put his hand on his lover's shoulder, stroking it gently in comfort.

Merlin flinched away from the touch, hissing a breath through his teeth. _Fuck_. Arthur had bloody forgotten this particular quirk of Merlin's. When they'd first met, he hated to be touched. It had taken a long time for him to be comfortable with Arthur touching him, and even longer for him to enjoy it. Arthur had hoped Merlin wouldn't relapse in that aspect, but clearly today was going to be one shitty time.

"I take it you're not going to work today?" he asked, dropping his dishes into the sink.

Merlin didn't answer, didn't even look at him, and Arthur wondered if he was even aware of his presence. A surge of anger shot through him, anger at himself for being so useless during these relapses, anger at Merlin for having them and angry at Will for making Merlin be this way.

"Fine," he snapped. "You stay at home, wallow in grief and starve yourself until you collapse. I'm going to work."

He slammed the front door shut behind him and stormed away, seething with anger. But the rage faded when he got to work and he buried his head in his hands, pulling at his hair. He hated seeing Merlin this way. He hated being so fucking _useless_. He regretted getting so angry. He knew Merlin needed him right now, even if he refused to admit it. Arthur had no idea what to help.

But he had to try.

** 0**

Merlin wasn't on the sofa when he returned home from work, so Arthur assumed he was in the bedroom. That was a good sign; normally Merlin couldn't stand to be near anything that they shared or was intimate. He stayed on the sofa and very firmly on _his _side of it, not letting any part of him touch the side that Arthur usually sat on. Arthur knew it wasn't anything to do with him personally, just a manifestation of Merlin's lingering fear of intimacy.

He put away the shopping and grabbed the big tub of vanilla ice cream he'd bought, retrieving two spoons from the cutlery drawer. Vanilla ice cream was Merlin's favourite food and one of the few things he'd actually eat besides cereal and pizza. He hoped it would help.

Merlin _was _in the bedroom, sat firmly on _his _side of the bed and not Arthur's, his knees curled to his chest. He didn't look at Arthur as he walked towards him but thankfully didn't flinch when Arthur sat close beside him on the bed.

He popped the lid of the tub of ice cream and offered one of the spoons. Merlin looked at him blankly.

"You need to eat," Arthur encouraged softly. "Just a little bit. I'll eat with you."

Merlin didn't move and Arthur winced at the empty blue eyes focused on him.

"Look," he sighed. "I'm not leaving, no matter what you do. You may not feel like it right now but you _need _me at the moment. You need me here to help you get through this. So I am going to be here no matter what. You won't push me away, okay? I will help you today and every other time. We'll get through this together."

He was rewarded with a flicker of a smile – barely there, but it warmed Merlin's eyes – and his partner reached for a spoon. Arthur sagged in relief, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, Merlin was nibbling at a spoon of ice cream.

After a few minutes, Merlin tilted slightly so he was leaning against Arthur's side. His heart jumped happily; Merlin was _touching_ him during a relapse. He restrained his giddy grin as he wrapped an arm around Merlin's shoulders, gently stroking his arm soothingly.

They didn't speak for the rest of the night but they did finish the whole tub of ice cream together. Arthur left the empty carton and the spoons on the floor beside the bed and shifted underneath the covers, holding Merlin to him. He tried to stay awake but his eyes felt too heavy and he felt himself drifting.

When he woke up, Merlin was sat up in bed, reading a book. It was the sight Arthur saw most mornings and it relieved him. However, unlike normal, Merlin was gently carding his fingers through Arthur's hair. He hummed slightly at the sensation and a small smile touched Merlin's lips.

"Did you sleep?" Arthur yawned.

"Briefly," Merlin murmured, not looking away from his book. "More than usual."

'More than usual' meant hardly anything for normal people, maybe three hours at most, but it made Arthur happy to know Merlin had gotten some decent sleep after yesterday.

He glanced at the clock to see it was early in the morning. Merlin would already have been up for hours. "Did you eat?"

Merlin hesitated. "I had some water and a slice of toast."

Arthur nodded, restraining another happy grin, and sat up in bed, stretching. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Merlin flicked the page over. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Arthur sighed. Merlin never acknowledged the relapses after they'd happened and ignored Arthur if he tried to talk about them. But at least it hadn't been as bad as usual. Arthur felt proud that he'd managed to help, at least a little bit.

"I should get up," he mumbled. "I've got work."

Merlin didn't reply and Arthur rolled his eyes, climbing out of bed. When he entered the kitchen after using the toilet he wasn't surprised to see Merlin already dressed for work. He was surprised, however, to see a plate of breakfast and coffee waiting for him. Merlin never normally cooked for him. He didn't mention it, knowing Merlin wouldn't appreciate it, and sat down to eat.

"Are you going to work?" Arthur asked, glancing at the clock.

"Yes," Merlin slung his backpack over one shoulder. "I'll see you tonight."

"I love you."

Merlin nodded but didn't say it back. He never did. But Arthur knew the sentiment was returned so he didn't let it bother him most of the time.

Suddenly, he felt warm pressure on his temple and glanced at Merlin from the corner of his eye, surprised. Merlin's lips lingered as he hugged Arthur for a moment.

"Thank you," he whispered.

He looked up, his throat feeling tight. "I meant what I said, Merlin: you won't ever push me away."

Merlin looked down at him and Arthur could see it glittering in those wide blue eyes. The love that Merlin couldn't express out loud.


	4. Kitten

Arthur wasn't surprised to see Merlin still up when he got home late. He _was_, however, caught off guard by the new arrival in his living room. He stared at it, not moving from the doorway.

Merlin cradled a tiny, fluffy kitten in his hands, smiling affectionately down at the creature. It was the colour of chocolate ice cream and too fluffy to make out any features apart from large blue eyes.

"Merlin..." Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Who's your friend?"

"His name's Will," Merlin murmured. "Morgana's cat gave birth and she's given us one of the kittens."

Arthur was about to protest, mentally cursing his sister. He didn't like cats. They were too much hassle and he found them irritating. He didn't like the idea of pets in general.

But the look on Merlin's face warmed his heart. He looked so delighted and for a second, he almost looked completely at peace. He petted the happy kitten, a small smile on his face, and Arthur's argument died on his lips.

He watched Merlin and the kitten, eventually reaching out and touching the animal's soft fur gently. It squirmed playfully at his touch and Merlin grinned. Arthur smiled, nodded at him, and sat beside his partner, petting the kitten.

After all, if helped Merlin, who was he to object?


	5. Anthropophagy

Arthur is surprised to see that Merlin is still awake when he returns home from the club at almost three in the morning. Merlin had been fine with Arthur going out with some uni mates, declining his offer to join them; he wanted to finish an essay and Arthur hadn't been surprised by the rejection – Merlin was habitually a recluse. He thought Merlin would finish his essay and get an early night.

He's sat on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around him and a discarded book on the floor. The TV is on, an early morning repeat of some soap flickering on the screen. Merlin gazes at it almost studiously and Arthur smiles. His boyfriend always claimed to be above such drivel but always manages to become engrossed in the drama when they're on.

They've been living together for almost a month now. For his first two years at university, Merlin lived in halls and then rented a flat on his own. Arthur had lived in a flat with friends. However, rather than flatshare with friends during their third year of university, they'd tentatively decided to, despite having only been in a relationship for six months, pool together their wages to rent a flat together. It has been...difficult at times to live with someone like Merlin but Arthur wouldn't change his decision for all the money in the world.

"Merlin?" Arthur slurs, latching the lock with clumsy fingers.

Merlin looks up at him for a moment and something – anger? pain? – flashes across his face. He looks down at his lap before getting to his feet, discarding the blanket on the sofa. He switches the TV off, picks up his book and throws it onto the table, all the while avoiding looking at Arthur.

"What's wrong?" Arthur staggers forward to embrace his boyfriend, wanting to comfort him. He hates seeing Merlin like this...so..._vulnerable_.

"Her lipstick is still on your collar," Merlin says quietly.

A chill sweeps down his spine, guilt churning in his stomach. He'd honestly (stupidly, arrogantly, _terribly_) thought he'd get away with it, that he could keep this a secret from Merlin (such a fucking bastard). He hadn't even looked in the mirror before leaving the club. He wipes at his collar and looks blearily at his fingers; yes, Merlin is right: there is scarlet lipstick on his collar and neck.

"Merlin..." he whispers, heart sinking. He hates himself in that moment, sick to the stomach with guilt and self loathing. He knows it'll be worse in the morning when he hasn't even got his drunk state of thinking to cover his mistake. What the fuck has he done?

"You reek of beer," Merlin sneers, not looking at him. "And cheap perfume. Did you fuck her?"

_No_! his mind screams. The idea is repulsive. She was redheaded, tacky and easy. She's not Merlin. He doesn't love her. But Merlin is continuing before he can express this to his boyfriend.

"Fuck you, Arthur," he spits and he's shoving past Arthur before he can protest, reach out, do anything to stop him from walking away.

"Merlin..." he stumbles back, grasping blindly for his lover's arm.

A slam of the door answers him and he is alone in the flat, swaying on his feet and wishing he was anywhere than right here, right now, having just witnessed Merlin, his Merlin, the troubled man he loves as easily and necessary as he breathes, walk away from him.

He exhales shakily, dropping to a crouch so his legs don't crumble beneath him. He already feels like he is falling and he closes his eyes against the urge to be sick. Covers his face like he's hiding, tries to pull himself back from the edge of the abyss. But it's too late, he's already thrown himself over, already made that choice when he let that woman crawl all over him, rub against his crotch as they danced, kiss him and smear her lipstick and saliva over his neck, marking him where Merlin had already made it known he was taken.

He'd made the choice, not fallen over the edge but jumped off willingly and now he's falling, falling, and he doesn't know to stop, how to get back up, how to fix this fucking mistake that he was an arsehole enough to make.

**0**

Merlin is gone for a whole week.

He's done this before and it isn't the fact that he's on the streets that worries Arthur the most. Merlin knows his way around the city, the tricks to avoid attention and trouble, the best places for shelter. He knows how to take care of himself.

And while Arthur has his usual worries about Merlin's health and safety out there, he's more anxious about the fact that this is _different_. This isn't Merlin blowing off steam or trying to deal with his emotion. This is him leaving after Arthur monumentally fucked up in possibly the worst way possible. This is the possibility that he _might not come _back and there is nothing Arthur can do to fix this because the chances of him finding Merlin out there are slim. He can only wait, feeling like he is underwater and slowly suffocating, as he waits for him to return.

He already knows what he'll do if Merlin does return. He's betrayed Merlin in the worst and most painful way. Given Merlin's past, his intimacy issues, his trouble with just trusting people, given how much it took Merlin to get past his barriers to be with Arthur in the first place, kissing someone else is the equivalent of taking that trust, setting light to it and watching as it burns to ash between them. Doing that and then daring to ask Merlin to stay, to forgive him, would be just as cruel, would be the equivalent of then kicking that ash in Merlin's face just to watch him choke on it.

So he'll watch Merlin leave him even though it feels like drowning. He'll be the one to walk away – not to hurt Merlin or as revenge – but because it is fair. He has friends and family he can stay with, Merlin hasn't. Merlin can keep the flat, a place to live. He'll be fair to Merlin even though Merlin is rarely fair to him because he can't bear seeing that look of betrayal. He's not the only one to make a mistake in the relationship – God knows that Merlin is really fucking difficult to be with considering his baggage – but this is more than that, this is a _really fucking stupid _action that has the potential to trigger Merlin to completely regress and Arthur hates himself for it.

So when he hears the front door open a week later, he pauses in the motion of spooning sugar into a mug. The kettle boils but he doesn't move to finish making the cup of tea, instead leaving the kitchen. Merlin hangs up his jacket on the hook next to the door, looking exhaustion. There is stubble on his jaw, his hair is messy and the clothes – the ones he was wearing when he left seven days ago – are crumpled.

"Merlin..."

The dark haired man doesn't acknowledge him as he crosses the room and disappears down the hallway. A moment later, Arthur hears the door to the bathroom shut and lock. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face wearily. He knows this is going to be an unpleasant and potentially agonising conversation but he has waited a week to get it over with. There's no avoiding it now.

He finishes making his cup of tea and makes one for Merlin, too. He can hear the sound of the shower and decides to make some food for Merlin. He's probably incredibly hungry though he'd never show it, especially not to Arthur who spends a lot of time worrying about how little his boyfriend eats. He makes Merlin's favourite type of sandwich: cheese and ham. Overwhelming Merlin with anything more than a light sandwich would likely turn him off eating altogether. Compromise was the key, not pushing him to eat too much or his stubborn attitude kicked in, every time. Still, he sneaks a small packet of gummy bears onto the plate since Merlin has a weakness for them. Then he cringes; his favourite sandwich and sweets? It looks like a lame apology, like he's sucking up to Merlin.

He carries the plate and two mugs into the living room and sets them on the coffee table. The flat isn't furnished well; the low wages they make in their crappy student jobs don't allow for elaborate furnishing. But it is comfortable and suits them well.

He waits nervously, forearms on his knees and fingers locked, head bowed, as he waits for Merlin to finish. He finally appears, his bare feet padding softly on the carpet as he approaches the table. He's freshly showered and shaved, hair still damp and ruffled from being towel dried, and he's changed into an old, faded _Death Cab for Cutie _T-shirt and jeans.

He doesn't sit down on the only available seat next to Arthur and he tries not to feel hurt by that; it is the least he deserves. Instead, Merlin sits cross legged on the floor on the other side of the table. It is a sign of how hungry he must be that he doesn't argue at the sight of the food waiting for him, instead reaching out and peeling off a crust to eat.

"I'll pack my bags tonight," Arthur says quietly, flicking his thumbs against one another.

Merlin doesn't answer, instead chewing on a gummy bear, but his silence is prompt enough for Arthur to continue.

"I have friends I can stay with. Leon's already said I can stay with him for as long as I need. Keep the flat. I won't cause any hassle."

When there is a long silence, he exhales heavily, thumbs twiddling faster as nerves get the better of him and he feels the need to say something, _anything _to fill the heavy void between them. But he doesn't get further than clearing his throat when Merlin breaks the silence.

"Shut the fuck up."

His voice is quiet and steady, containing no hints to his thoughts or how he feels. Arthur swallows hard but obliges, staring down at the carpet as he waits for Merlin to continue. He takes a sip of tea, listens to the sound of Merlin chewing on his sandwich, feels his heart pounding in his chest.

"You're going to be all _nice _and fair by leaving? Letting me keep the flat while you walk away so that you can ease your guilt over cheating?" The volume increases as Merlin's anger comes to the surface. "Fuck you, Arthur. You won't pack your bags and you're not leaving. You don't get to make that choice for me, not after what you did, so just stay the fuck on that sofa."

Arthur is stunned into silence for a few minutes, torn between hope that Merlin doesn't want him to leave and ripped apart by the sheer betrayal and fury in his boyfriend's – boyfriend? is Merlin still that? – tone.

Finally, he clears his throat and quietly, _stupidly_, murmurs, "I didn't cheat. I didn't have sex with her...we just kissed."

"You bastard," Merlin spits, hands clenching on his knees. "Just because you didn't _shag _her doesn't change anything. Kissing still counts as cheating in my book." His eyes meet Arthur's then, a challenge in them. "Wouldn't you say the same if you saw me kissing some other man?"

The image makes Arthur feel like he's swallowed acid. He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, maintains his calm.

"Right," he sighs. "Yeah, you're right."

Merlin doesn't answer and Arthur knows better than to say anything more. They're teetering on the edge of something much worse than this, something that will destroy them both, and Arthur refuses to be the one to tip them over. His own tea is finished, the warm liquid curdling in his stomach as fear of losing this man claims him. Merlin's tea sits cold and untouched between them.

When Merlin finally speaks again, his tone is quiet but heavy with something Arthur is too anxious to acknowledge.

"When we fucked for the first time, I warned you that loving me would be a massive mistake. That I'm selfish, I'd do nothing but take and take until there is nothing left and not give you anything in return. That I'd tear you apart in the process of loving you back. I'm possessive and vindictive and fucked up. I gave you fair warning and yet you love me anyway." He looked up, his expression dark. "So you don't get to pack your bags tonight, Arthur. You don't get to walk away like some fucking martyr for your mistake. Anytime you want to leave me, anytime you stop loving me, you go and I will watch you go. But not now and not for this."

Arthur stares at him, stunned, speechless. Merlin meets his stare with a hard glare, waiting for his words to sink in before getting to his feet, the very picture of calm.

"You can sleep on the sofa," he says.

And then he is gone, disappearing into the bedroom, presumably to sleep. He's always exhausted after he returns from his jaunts on the streets. He sleeps for hours, more so than he does when he shares a bed with Arthur, and he knows better than to try and wake him up.

He wants to join Merlin, to reassure himself that what Merlin had just said was _real_. It was possessive and terrifying but also, in some ways, liberating. Merlin was furious and hurt and betrayed but he didn't want Arthur to leave and he didn't want to leave Arthur. That was a better outcome than he'd expected. More than that – it was a fucking _prayer_ being answered. For the first time in a week, he felt really, truly alive.

He found a blanket in the cupboard and sets up a makeshift bed on the sofa. But he can't sleep. Not when Merlin is so close, in the bedroom, _here_ and not leaving. Not when things aren't right between them.

He gives in at close to two in the morning, padding softly through the flat to the bedroom. Merlin has clearly been sleeping deeply, the sheets tangled around him, but he's awake when Arthur enters the bedroom, gazing up at the ceiling. Arthur takes a moment to gaze at the skinny man, at the pale moonlight throwing his dark hair, sharp cheekbones and the planes of his lean torso into beautiful, black and white contrast. He's sure he'll never get used to the sheer lure of this man.

Merlin doesn't protest when Arthur sits carefully on the edge of the bed, gazing down at him. He doesn't look away from the ceiling either, clearly waiting for Arthur to get whatever it was he needed to say out of his system.

"I don't know why I did it. I was drunk but that shouldn't have...I fucked up, I really did. I love you, Merlin, completely and without fault. It's not something I can control anymore, the way I feel about you. It is as necessary as breathing and as real as the blood in my veins. But for some stupid reason, I let my doubts about how you feel about me control my thoughts for ten minutes of frankly shit kissing and fucked up what I have with you." He runs a hand through his hair, guilt and defeat gnawing at him. "For what it's worth, no matter how inadequate it sounds, I'm sorry."

Merlin's silent for a long while and Arthur surrendered, about to get to his feet and leave the dark haired man be. But then Merlin answers.

"And for what it's worth, I love you."

It isn't a surrender, an insincere reassurance or a token of forgiveness. It's a steady, flat out fact, like saying the sky is blue or that Arthur has blonde hair. It is as real as the carpet beneath Arthur's feet and as stunning as the man who uttered the words. It is finally out there: Merlin loves him.

And it feels so fucking _unreal_, the happiness and relief that fills Arthur at the statement. Because he knows Merlin loves him, the man himself has said before he'd happily die for him, but to hear the words said out loud as easily as Arthur says them to Merlin...it isn't a confession or poetry or a prayer, it is fact, a universal law, and it is everything to Arthur.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Merlin rolls onto his side, his back to Arthur, and the message is clear: back off. Arthur gets to his feet and utters a quiet 'goodnight' as he leaves the bedroom. He waits for an answer but receives only silence in response, so he closes the door and returns to his makeshift bed on the sofa.

Things are far from right between them and Merlin is still incredibly furious. Arthur knows it will be a while until the anger and hurt fades, until things feel better between them, but knowing that Merlin loves him and doesn't want things to end between them makes it bearable.

**0**

It is three weeks before they have sex again. It can't be called 'making love' or anything close; it is rough and it is angry. Merlin's thrusts are punishing, lust rather than love, driven by his fury at the man writhing beneath him. But it isn't painful (never painful, Merlin would never hurt him when it comes to sex); it is glorious and ecstatic and real. Arthur comes first, clutching to Merlin like an anchor and Merlin follows soon after, collapsing on top of him as he buries his mouth against his neck, trying to catch his breath.

Then he pulls out, discards the condom and rolls onto his side and Arthur is dismissed once more to the sofa bed. He goes willingly, slightly sore from the angry sex but feeling better than he has done in weeks. He sleeps easier, too.

Merlin doesn't speak to him the next day. He leaves for university without acknowledging Arthur and only returns to get changed for work. They spend the evening watching television, sat together on the sofa but with so much space between them it feels like they might as well be miles apart. Merlin doesn't glance at him or speak when he stands and disappears into the bedroom. Arthur sleeps on the sofa again. This becomes their routine and it hurts, but at least Merlin isn't leaving.

It is weeks before Merlin's ice thaws, before he starts talking and looking, spending time with him as opposed to spending time in the same room. The sex becomes less angry, less possessive, gentler and loving, making love rather than fucking. There is no acknowledgment between them, Arthur simply returns to the bed and stays there and not a word is spoken by either of them.

Merlin lets Arthur curl around him, comforting, keeping him safe as he falls asleep, trusting Arthur with both his safety and his heart again and Arthur sleeps without interruption for the first time since the night Merlin walked out.

They have a while to go yet and things aren't _fixed_. It isn't something to be healed, rather something to study, learn from and move on. Eventually, normalcy resumes. Merlin hasn't forgiven him – isn't sure he'll ever forgive him – and Arthur still resents himself for his mistake.

Neither of them will ever forget it but they have made it through and while the situation hasn't done anything as cliché as made them stronger, the storm is over and the love is still there without so much as a dent in it and that...that is enough.

* * *

**a/n: I'm really not happy with this chapter but decided that this is the best I can do with it so...here it is.**

**Any news, previews and such regarding my stories, including this one, is posted on my tumblr. If you feel like following me, the link is on my profile or my URL is 'Sherlocked95'.**

**Reviews are very welcome :)**


	6. First Sight

The first time he saw him was two weeks into his first year at university. He'd been attending the medieval languages lectures – attending them out of interest only as the subject he'd chosen for his degree was business management and economics – for almost every day for two weeks and he was certain he would have noticed this guy before if he'd also been attending them.

It was his first lecture on the Monday and at nine o'clock in the morning. He was still hungover from the night before; he'd let Leon and Percival drag him out of halls for their third night out in a row. He usually enjoyed these lectures – he'd always been interested in culture, especially languages – but now all he could do was stare at the clock, wishing that it would end soon so he could go back to his dorm and nap for a couple of hours until his next seminar.

Halfway through the lecture, the doors at the back clattered open. Professor Corfield fell silent, stood by the board. He didn't look particularly happy. Everyone twisted in their seats, craning their necks to see who had interrupted the lecture.

A tall, lean figure, all gangly limbs and a loose red shirt over tight black jeans, quickly made his way down the steps. His skin was pale but his large ears were red with embarrassment. Beside him, Elyan sniggered.

Arthur knew he was staring but he couldn't stop. Besides, everyone else was staring – though, admittedly, they were all smirking. The guy had a mop of dark hair, ridiculously sharp cheekbones, fine features, and downcast eyes as he made his way to one of the empty seats, bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

His eyes rose until wide, blue eyes met Arthur's, and in the next instant, he tripped over a step, falling lopsidedly into an empty chair. A few people giggled and Arthur couldn't help it – the astonishment on the boy's face was just too amusing – he chuckled too.

The boy flushed even redder and dropped his eyes, looking crestfallen, and guilt hit Arthur hard.

_Shit_.

* * *

**a/n: so this starts the arc of them meeting and their early relationship, which will span around five (?) chapters. I'd love a review if you have the time :D **

**Also, in a couple of weeks I will be starting a prompt fill project which will be ongoing during the summer, but I could really use your guys help. If you could come on over to tumblr (link to my tumblr is on my fanfiction profile) and leave me a prompt to fill, that would be wonderful. Thank you. **


	7. Cheers

"He hates me."

Gwaine rolled his eyes, lazily flipping through the pages in one of Arthur's textbooks. He huffed, swatting it out of his friend's hands. Gwaine, expensive books and a cup of coffee was never a trustworthy combination.

"Will you shut up about Merlin?" Gwaine groaned, flopping onto his back. "All I've heard about this week is bloody Merlin."

Arthur blithely ignored him, tapping his Biro against the textbook on his lap. Both the textbook and the concept of revising for his test in the morning had been forgotten long ago because, inevitably, his thoughts had turned to the dark haired guy in his medieval languages lectures. Since that first lecture when the guy – Merlin Emrys, as he'd later discovered – had tripped, Arthur's thoughts had been straying at an alarming frequency to him. He hadn't had a serious crush since year eleven and this was simply ridiculous. It didn't help that Merlin showed not one iota of evidence that he liked Arthur, let alone fancied him.

And, okay, maybe he was acting like a schoolgirl writing her crush's name all over her school books, but he owed Gwaine from all the times he'd heard him whining over a pint about how 'terrible' it was that he could fuck anyone in the pub but not find someone to fall in love with. Gwaine could put up with _his _whining for once.

"I keep trying to apologise for laughing at him but every time I approach him he looks terrified, like he thinks I'm going to drag him into an empty lecture hall and slit his throat."

Gwaine's smile was positively sinful. "We both know that if you were to drag him into an empty lecture hall, it wouldn't because you had _murder_ on your mind." He pursed his lips, thoughtful. "Have you seen those cheekbones? I've bet he'd give mindblowing blowjobs."

"_Gwaine_," he picked up the nearest object – a unicorn shaped soft toy Morgana had given him as a gag gift for his birthday – and lobbed it at his friend.

Gwaine caught it easily, laughing. Arthur swivelled in his chair, turning his back on the obnoxious bloke sat on his bed.

"I tried the subtle approach," he continued, twiddling the Biro between his fingers. "But he barely spoke and left as quickly as possible. I tried the direct approach, went right up to him and asked him out for coffee. He didn't even bother saying 'no', just turned and walked away."

Gwaine mimed pulling a dagger out of his heart. "Ouch. Looks like he's a lost cause, mate."

"Thanks for your wonderful words of wisdom, Gwaine. Really, I'm positively _feeling _the optimism."

Gwaine groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"If I'm that annoying, why are you still here?" Arthur snapped.

"Because if I left you to your own devices, you'd probably spend the night writing terrible poetry and lamenting your unrequited love." Gwaine lifted one hand up in the air, his voice taking on a deep, dramatic quality, "_But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Merlin is the sun_..."

Arthur waited until his friend had finished his monologue before stating, "I hate you."

"You want me."

"He hates me."

"_Ugh_," Gwaine sat up, shaking his head at his friend. "I doubt he hates you, Arthur. Everyone else laughed and he doesn't hate them. Hell, _I _laughed and we get on fine."

"Wait – _what_?"

Something flickered across Gwaine's face and he looked down, silent. Arthur's stomach dropped.

"What did you do?" he demanded.

Gwaine shifted slightly, sheepish. "To be fair, mate, you didn't start this 'oh woe is me' lark until a few days later. I had no idea you liked him."

"_Gwaine_."

"I bumped into him in the coffee shop and we got talking," Gwaine admitted. "We got on well and...I, uh, might have hit on him. A bit." He thought about it before amending, "A lot."

"You _fucker_."

"He turned me down!" Gwaine added quickly. "Blushed bright red, turned me down and left. I'm sorry, Arthur. I didn't know then that you'd become bloody infatuated with the poor sod."

Arthur relaxed slightly at the revelation that Gwaine hadn't shagged the guy he had a stupid crush on.

Sometimes he wondered why he was friends with Gwaine. He was loud, he was obnoxious, and he could be a complete tosser sometimes. Arthur was certain that if Gwaine wasn't also incredibly loyal, noble and brilliant at being a best friend, he would have given up long ago. As it was, he couldn't imagine _not _being friends with Gwaine.

"That was still a shit move you pulled, Gwaine."

Gwaine held his hands up. "Guilty."

Arthur shook his head the incorrigible bastard but let it slide. He tilted his head back again, thinking through what Gwaine had said. His frustration at his bloody unrequited crush intensified.

"So he's fine with everyone else who laughed," he grumbled. "It's just _me _he hates."

"Have you ever thought that maybe it isn't that he _hates _you?" Gwaine suggested. "Maybe he fancies you."

Arthur paused to entertain that idea for a moment but didn't let himself hope. After all, pretty much all of the evidence presented the complete opposite. Maybe not hate, but definite dislike.

"If he fancied me, he wouldn't have been so rude when I asked him out," he pointed out. "He dislikes me."

"Bloody hell, you're so sodding pessimistic," Gwaine huffed, getting to his feet. "Right, get your glad rags on. We're going out."

Arthur knew exactly what _going out_ meant in Gwaine terms: getting cripplingly drunk, making a fool of themselves and waking up the next morning with the world's shittiest hangover. Gwaine never accepted anything less.

"I have an exam in the morning," he shook his head.

A sly smile worked itself onto Gwaine's face. "Merlin might be there."

"Nice try," Arthur snorted. "But Merlin never goes out drinking."

Gwaine gave him an odd look. "Considering you've barely spoken to him, it's kind of creepy how you know that."

Arthur smiled sheepishly.

"Fine," Gwaine pulled on his jacket and pocketed his keys. "Then I'll help you pull a nice bloke or lovely lady to get your mind off Merlin for one night. Better a warm body than on your own hand."

"Gwaine, the last time I went on the pull with you, I got slapped in the face by the grand total of three women, barred from the Lionheart and chased home by two guys on mopeds. If you think I'm going to let you drag me into something like that again, you can piss off."

"What?" Gwaine asked innocently. "That was a fun night. And you _did _get that guy's number."

A loud moan cut off Arthur's reply and he sighed, glaring at the wall by his head. One problem about living in halls: the walls were incredibly thin. He'd had the wonderful fortune of being given the room next to some guy who was either rich or had a massive dick, going by the different women he had in his room almost every night. He was also remarkably _loud _in his endeavours.

One of Arthur's fantasies with his right hand involved bringing Merlin back to his room to give his neighbour a run for his money when it came to noise.

"On second thought," Arthur grimaced in revulsion as another obscene noise sounded from next door, followed by a series of bangs as the bed hit the wall and loud keening. "Let's go."

Gwaine grinned, opening the door and holding his hand out in an elegant gesture for Arthur to leave first.

**0**

Merlin was in the pub.

Arthur's hand froze, poised with the pint to his lips, and stared. Because he was certain that he'd _never _seen Merlin out. The guy was blatantly a hermit. But here he was, dressed in red shirt, denim jacket and black jeans that were positively sinful and possibly illegal, looking awkward as fuck as he leaned his tall, gangly frame against the bar, the tips of his large ears red as he searched the crowded pub. It was a popular place for uni students, particularly first years.

"Told ya, mate."

Arthur slid a glance to his companion, raising an eyebrow. "You invited him here, didn't you?"

Gwaine smirked. "You're welcome."

He slapped him on the shoulder cheerfully, causing the pint glass to bump against Arthur's mouth and the contents to slosh out, spilling over his chin and shirt.

And, of course, it was at that moment that Merlin looked over, just in time to see Arthur humiliating himself by dribbling beer all down himself.

But...Merlin _laughed_.

He threw back his head and laughed at Arthur. His laughter was adorable, crinkling his eyes a little and lighting up his whole face. Arthur couldn't hear what his laughter sounded like due to the loud music and chatter from other patrons but he resolved to ensure Merlin laughed like that again so he could listen to it.

He felt an answering grin pull at his lips as he watched the other man laugh. Beside him, Gwaine rolled his eyes.

"Go flirt," he waved a hand dismissively, already ogling the arse of a blonde first year in tight jeans and a low cut blouse.

Arthur left him to it, getting to his feet and joining Merlin against the bar. Merlin looked down a little, smile fading but Arthur refused to let it knock his confidence. He'd already guessed that Merlin was almost cripplingly shy.

"Well," he smirked, leaning in close to be heard over the music. "I believe we're even."

Merlin looked at him then, a small smile gracing his lips. "I guess we are."

And he leaned in further, making their stance _far_ too intimate to be considered only _friendly_, and Arthur felt his heart jump. This was it, this was his chance. He let a playful smile dance on his lips, leaning one arm on the bar.

"Can I get you a drink?" he offered smoothly.

The change was instant; Merlin's expression shuttered and he took a step back, looking borderline _hostile_ as he shook his head.

"I have to go," he declared.

And he was gone, moving quickly between a group of giggling friends that had just entered the pub and leaving. Arthur stared after him, completely disorientated.

"Well," Gwaine drawled from behind him. "That was painful to witness."

Arthur snorted, heart sinking in disappointment as he tore his gaze away from his entrance – as if Merlin would suddenly appear and declare his own infatuation with Arthur – and turned to the bar.

_You're telling me_, he thought, but didn't answer Gwaine. Instead, he beckoned for the bartender and ordered the strongest liquor in the building. Gwaine raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to comment.

"If you're about to say anything other than _cheers_," Arthur warned, "Then you can fuck right off."

Gwaine paused, deliberating, and then clinked his glass against Arthur's. "Cheers."

Arthur snorted, throwing back the drink and wincing at the burn. He didn't give a shit about his test the next morning or the fact that it was still early.

"Cheers."

* * *

**a/n: my final A2 exams start next week and finish on the 13****th****. These are the exams that determine my place at uni in September, so I'll be revising solidly this week and focusing on exams until the 14****th****, so I apologise for the delay in updating but I hope you understand :)**


	8. Picnic

Professor Corfield quite possibly had the dullest voice Arthur had ever come across. Perhaps medieval languages was a stiff, heavy subject as it was, but he'd always enjoyed learning more about languages. He was sure the lectures could be fun if it wasn't for the professor.

He embodied pretty much every stereotype about professors; middle aged, ruddy faced, balding with a pot belly, tweed jacket with bloody _elbow _patches and a monotonous, slow voice. Academically, Arthur had always hit the top grades across the board. With his father, he had little choice but to excel. Thankfully, he wasn't attending these lectures as part of his degree but as an interest; otherwise, with how often he either fell asleep or zoned out thanks to Corfield's boring presentations, he'd be failing. Academically, he'd always hit the top grades across the board. With his father, he had little choice but to excel.

Professor Corfield's lecture was interrupted by the sound of the doors at the back of the hall swinging open.

Arthur didn't turn around. He'd learnt that Merlin had a habit of being late. He wasn't in the mood this morning to turn around to look at Merlin, to experience that _flip-flopping_ sensation in his stomach he always got when Merlin met his gaze. Corfield didn't glance towards the doors and his speech didn't falter for a second; he'd also grown used to Merlin's interruptions and tended to blithely ignore them rather than comment.

However, the usual pattern was broken when the chair beside Arthur was pulled back. He glanced up in surprise as Merlin folded himself into the chair and shuffled closer to the table. He slid Arthur a glance and offered a small, shy smile. Arthur answered with his own smile, caught between confusion and a sort of fluttery, happy feeling in his chest. Beside him, Elyan nudged him discreetly in the ribs, eyebrows raised.

The lecture seemed to drag for even longer than usual. Arthur took down notes, too distracted to actually pay attention to what he was writing. He was hyper aware of the boy sat next to him, the heat of his arm close to his own, his knee bumping against his now and then when Merlin shifted in his seat. He found himself glancing more to Merlin than to the presentation on the screen at the front of the hall and wanted to kick himself because, _really_? Letting himself be distracted by a cute guy? He wasn't fourteen years old anymore, discovering he was gay after he found himself watching Matt Grey shirtless on the footie field rather than the girls. He was too mature for this shit...yet here he was, getting goosebumps because Merlin was bloody sat next to him.

Finally, Corfield shut off the presentation and the sound of chairs scraping back echoed through the lecture hall. Arthur stacked his notebook and textbook on top of his laptop and reached beneath his chair for his bag. His next lecture wasn't until late afternoon and he'd been looking forward to taking a power nap back in his dorm, but now he delayed, wondering whether he should say something. He hadn't had chance to speak to Merlin since he'd run out on him at the pub.

He'd zipped up his jacket and was just about to leave when he felt Merlin's hand on his elbow. He turned to face him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he waited.

"So," Merlin offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry I freaked out and left the other day. I'm just...I'm not good with public places, okay? Especially when there's a lot of people. I-I get claustrophobic."

Arthur relaxed knowing that it wasn't him coming on too strong that caused Merlin to leave the pub so suddenly. And he could understand Merlin's situation; his mother, Ygraine, had a massive phobia of small spaces. He'd once had to help her through a vicious panic attack caused by claustrophobia. Besides, he'd already guessed that Merlin was shy and kind of a hermit.

"It's fine," he nodded. "Just glad _I _didn't freak you out. I know I've already made a bad impression, but I was hoping we could move past that."

Merlin gave him an odd look.

"With the...laughing? When you tripped? I know it was a dick move and I'm sorry."

"Oh," Merlin laughed slightly. "I hadn't even noticed, Arthur. I was too busy trying to control my own limbs."

Well, that was unexpected. Arthur was relieved that he _hadn't_ offended Merlin by laughing that day, but at the same time, he had no idea why Merlin had been acting so hostile around him. Had he done something _else_ to insult him, something that he hadn't even realised he'd done?

"So," Arthur awkwardly stuck out a hand, unsure of himself. "We're good?"

Merlin, thankfully, seemed more amused than put off and shook his hand. "We're good."

**0**

Over the weeks, Arthur learns that, once Merlin is more comfortable and is eased out of his shell, he's still quiet but a funny, witty guy. He fits in well with the group and Arthur can tell that his friends like him.

Unfortunately, he also learns that the chances of progressing to be _more _than friends with Merlin are slim. He's not even certain if Merlin is gay. He hasn't seen Merlin express interest in _anyone_, male or female, and rarely actually _goes out_. What kind of uni student stayed in their room all the time? Arthur can appreciate that Merlin is a hermit...but not knowing whether he actually has a shot or not is starting to bug him.

And then they have a picnic.

**0**

Gwaine had an annoying habit of popping up out of nowhere so Arthur wasn't too surprised when the Irishman suddenly appeared beside him as he left the student's cafe, carrying two coffees and a bag of cookies.

"Thanks, cupcake, you shouldn't have," Gwaine grinned, reaching for one of the cups.

"I didn't," Arthur held them out of his reach. "It's for Merlin."

"You're still trying with him?"

"We're friends," Arthur defended. "I'm just getting him a drink."

"And cookies," Gwaine pointed out. "Do friends usually do _picnics_?"

"We're not having a picnic."

"Lies."

"We're working on an assignment together and I thought coffee and snacks would help, alright?" Arthur noticed Gwaine eyeing the bag in his hand and sighed, holding it out. "Would you like a cookie, Gwaine?"

"Well, if you insist..." Gwaine peeled open the bag and plucked out a cookie, examining it. "Chocolate chip with red icing? You really are wooing the bloke with baked goods, aren't you?"

"Fuck off, Gwaine."

Gwaine smirked and bit into the cookie, moaning. "Oh, this is chocolate _heaven_. There's no way that shitty excuse for a cafe produced these." He looked at Arthur, brown eyes sparkling. "Holy shit, you made him _cookies_."

"Fuck _off_, Gwaine. I didn't make them. I visited mum this weekend and she made me some food to bring back. I thought the cookies would make a good snack."

"You might as well leave a homemade cottage pie on his doorstep. It'd be just as subtle."

"_Fuck off, Gwaine_," Arthur grumbled. "Don't you have someone else to annoy?"

"But you make it _so _easy," Gwaine grinned. "Anyway, I'm glad I ran into you. If the next words out of your mouth are anything other than 'yes, let's do it right now', then consider our friendship done."

"Sorry, Gwaine, I'm afraid you're not my type."

"No, we all know exactly who _is _your type," Gwaine replied slyly. "But I meant, let's go get drunk."

"Don't you have an exam tomorrow morning?"

"Yep."

"Shouldn't you revise rather than spend the night drinking?"

Gwaine gave him an odd look. "I don't think you've grasped how university works, dude."

"Ah, right, my mistake," Arthur rolled his eyes, holding the bag out of reach when Gwaine tried to steal another one. "Alright, where are we meeting and who else is going?"

"Jon, Percy, Matt, Louise and Freya."

"Freya?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You're still after her?"

"Always," Gwaine glanced at his watch. "Gotta run, mate. We're meeting at the Lionheart at eight."

Arthur waved him off and entered the park. It was actually a nice day for England – there was a slight breeze but it was still sunny and warm enough to wear a short sleeved shirt – and he'd thought working on the assignment would go better if they spent it somewhere nice rather than the stuffy university library.

He found Merlin underneath a tree towards the bottom of the park. He'd set out a blanket for them to sit on and was already surrounded by books, typing away at his laptop. The park was full since it was a nice day, families with their little kids in the play area, other students working or hanging out, teenagers playing Frisbee and rounders, people walking their dogs.

He sat beside Merlin, setting down his backpack and the bag of cookies and holding out the coffee.

"Hi," he greeted.

Merlin closed his laptop and set it aside before accepting the coffee. "Hi," he smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem," Arthur gestured towards the bag of cookies. "I brought snacks too."

"You, my friend, are truly a god."

Arthur smiled and pulled his own textbook out of his bag. Out of all the different assignments Corfield could have given them as a pair, he'd decided that Arthur and Merlin would do a presentation on _grammar_, the one thing that Arthur was struggling to grasp.

Thankfully, Merlin was a little genius when it came to languages and had no problem with grammar. Arthur had thanked every entity when Corfield had paired them for the assignment...although, admittedly, that also had to do with the fact that he still hadn't moved on from his ridiculous crush on the guy.

Arthur shook his head to dispel those thoughts and opened his textbook.

They managed to finish after an hour and a half – though Arthur knew it would have taken a lot longer if he'd had to do it alone – and as he clicked through the presentation they'd made on Merlin's laptop, he couldn't help but glance up at the guy.

Merlin was lying on his stomach, munching on the last cookie and flipping through a textbook. His expression was peaceful, serene, and his mop of dark hair fluttered against his forehead from the breeze. Arthur couldn't help but smile.

"Are you busy later?" he blurted.

Merlin glanced up at him, smiling in the sun. "Nope, why?"

"Some of us are heading to the Lionheart later. You should come."

Merlin gazed at him as he considered it. Finally, he gave a minute shrug. "Okay."

"Great. We're meeting at eight."

Arthur was aware that he was grinning almost giddily and Merlin smiled back warmly, holding his gaze. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead and Arthur reached out before he could stop himself, brushing the hair back.

Merlin pulled back, a shocked look on his face, and Arthur's stomach dropped. _Shit_. Misread the signs completely.

"Sorry," he murmured, dropping his hand.

Merlin looked down at his book. "I should, uh, I should go."

"Right," Arthur swallowed.

He packed his own stuff up and got to his feet, clutching the strap of his backpack nervously as looked down at Merlin.

"So I'll see you later?"

Merlin nodded. "Sure. See you, Arthur."

Arthur murmured his own goodbye and cursed himself as he left the park. Either Merlin definitely wasn't gay or he'd made a move too soon, but he'd definitely slipped up. But still...Merlin was joining them on a night out. That was progress, at least.


	9. Immersion

**IMPORTANT: this chapter is rated M for sexual content. It also has some potentially triggering themes in terms of drugs, internalised homophobia and homophobic language. Please mind your step or perhaps skip this chapter if any of these themes might trigger. Thank you.**

* * *

"He's not gay."

Arthur threw back a shot of..._something_ (whatever it was he'd foolishly let Gwaine order for him, it was vile), shuddering through the taste before defending, "He might be."

"Mate," Gwaine shook his head, looking over to where Merlin was currently stood at the bar, being chatted up by a petite girl with volumes of brown hair. "I think he's straight."

Arthur followed his gaze to Merlin, grimacing again for an entirely different reason. After the awkward ending to their study session, the way Merlin had brushed him off when he'd made a move, Arthur hadn't expected him to show up at the Lionheart. But he'd turned up – albeit forty minutes late – and had, surprisingly, become the life of the group, keeping the banter going and ordering drinks.

He'd already made good friends with the lads and they liked him, but there was always something holding Merlin back, keeping him on the fringe of the group. He was quiet, shy to the point of it being crippling, and rarely accepted invitations to social events. He tended to keep to himself. It made it difficult for them to be close friends with him and it made things a little awkward. But tonight it was different, something had changed, and Merlin was loud, the heart of the group and conversation, and throwing himself into a good night out.

It was good to see him like that, it really was. But something was..._off_. It just seemed a little false. There was something wrong, Arthur just couldn't tell what.

"Heads up," Gwaine muttered, sliding another shot Arthur's way.

He looked up from the neon green liquid in the shot glass – it was actually _glowing_ in the pulsing strobe lights of the nightclub they'd moved onto after the Lionheart – to see Merlin and the girl approaching the sofa where they sat.

"Hey guys," Merlin said, his speech slightly slurred. "This is Freya."

Freya was a tiny, fragile thing, skinny with brown hair, delicate features and big brown Bambi eyes. Her slight frame was dressed relatively conservatively compared to the other people in the nightclub, sheathed in a blue wrap dress and ankle boots. She had a sweet, shy smile as she offered her hand in an awkward wave and Arthur pegged her as the quietly fierce type, but one that appeared to be a frail bird, the kind of vulnerable person who needed protecting. Of course Merlin had been drawn to her.

Arthur threw back the other shot, holding back a blanch at the taste. He was never letting Gwaine order the drinks again. He tended to like the strongest drinks, even the ones that had the most disgusting taste. Of course, Gwaine knocked them back without so much as batting an eyelid. Arthur wondered if the guy even had tastebuds.

"Merls," Freya spoke, her voice barely audible over the thudding music. "Can we dance?"

Gwaine snorted quietly at that, clearly waiting for Merlin's inevitable rebuttal. He wasn't a dancer. He wasn't a social person at all, really, let alone one who liked to dance. Plus with his two left feet and tendency to trip over thin air, dancing could only end in disaster.

But Merlin offered a cheerful, heart wrenchingly adorable grin that made him look so much _younger_ than he usually did and took her hand, letting her steer him into the crowd of dancers. Arthur stared after them, gaping, and felt a tingle down his spine. He didn't pretend to know Merlin well – or even at all, really, the guy was so bloody enigmatic – but even Gwaine had seemed positive that Merlin would decline. There was something off about this.

"Did he sound like he was slurring to you?" he asked.

Gwaine nodded, his brow creasing. "How much has he had to drink?"

"I haven't really been counting."

Gwaine stared off into the distance as he clocked how much alcohol Merlin had consumed. "He had two drinks at the Lionheart..."

"But they were both just Cokes, no alcohol," Arthur remembered thinking it was odd that Merlin hadn't ordered anything alcoholic to start off the evening.

"I know he had a J20 when we first got here..." Gwaine beckoned Leon over. "Mate, you've been keeping an eye on _Merls_," and bless his loyalty, he curled his tongue around the nickname Freya had given Merlin mockingly before continuing, "tonight, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Leon nodded, glancing between them. "Why, what's up?"

"How much has he had to drink?"

Leon thought about it for a moment before answering. "He had a J20 when we first got here, a couple of Cokes since then...but alcohol wise? I think he had a beer earlier, but that's it."

Arthur and Gwaine shared a glance. Even if Merlin was a lightweight, one beer surely wasn't enough to get him anywhere _near _buzzed. A horrible suspicion crept into Arthur's mind and he pushed the shot glass Gwaine offered away, suddenly feeling cold and not up for partying. He got to his feet, wiping clammy hands on his jeans.

"Arthur, mate," Gwaine reached up, grasping his elbow to stop him. "I know you like him, okay? But look," he nodded to where Merlin was dancing with Freya, "I think he's a lost cause."

"I know," Arthur jerked his elbow free. "But he's still my friend."

And that was true. Even if Merlin _wasn't _straight, it was clear he still didn't want anything more than friendship with Arthur, and that was fine. He could be friends – he _wanted_ to be friends with Merlin. He was a good guy, a great person to have as a friend and Arthur wasn't going to ditch him simply because there was no hope for anything more than friendship between them. He wasn't going to be a total shit just because he was disappointed.

He approached the dancing pair, squeezing between the throng of dancers until he was beside them. Still, this close to the speakers blasting loud, bass heavy dance tracks from the DJ, he had to lean in to be heard.

"Sorry to interrupt," he practically shouted. "But I need to borrow Merlin for a second."

Freya offered a friendly smile and nodded. "Sure! I'll be over by the bar."

Merlin nodded and turned to Arthur curiously, but he didn't want to speak, not here and not shouting to be heard over the music. He beckoned for Merlin to follow and headed off the dance floor and out of the club altogether. Merlin made a small noise of protest but followed all the same. Outside, there were a few people hanging around – smokers, people getting some fresh air and cooling down, a few people tending to very drunk friends who were vomiting in the bushes. Arthur guided Merlin past all of them until they were out of hearing range.

"Arthur," Merlin asked, uncertain. "What's this about? I really should be getting back to..."

He suddenly swayed, clearly disorientated, and Arthur gripped his elbows before he could fall, propping him up against the wall. Merlin bent his knees slightly to keep balanced and tilted his head back against the bricks, his cheerful, energetic disposition suddenly gone, replaced by an expression of worried confusion.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked, keeping a wary eye on the other man in case he decided to pass out.

Merlin lifted his head to look at him and Arthur studied him beneath the light of the lamppost nearby. Even in the yellow-tinted illumination, Merlin was pale, almost clammy looking, his lips chapped and his eyes were glassy, the pupils blown wide.

"What?" he snapped.

Arthur blinked in surprise. "I only asked if you're alright."

"I'm thirsty."

And he suddenly smiled, looking amused, and Arthur's heart sank as his suspicion grew. He put his hands either side of Merlin's head, holding it steady as he leaned in, trying to get Merlin to focus on him.

"Merlin, have you taken something?"

"Oh," Merlin mouthed, his lips twisting slightly. "Yeah. Is it...is it obvious?"

_Shit_. "What did you take?"

"I'm thirsty," Merlin repeated. "Freya's waiting."

"Focus, Merlin," Arthur tilted his head, forcing him to meet his gaze. "What did you take?"

"Dunno," he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Some pill. Got it from a guy in my halls of residence. Cost me twenty pounds."

"You..." Arthur took a step back, running his hands over his face in exasperation. "Jesus, Merlin, you don't even know what it _was_? It could have been cut with rat poison or antifreeze or..._anything_."

Merlin looked angry then, his expression cold and hard as he took a step forward, forcing Arthur to back up. "Why do you care?"

"Because, Merlin, you're my friend and I care about you."

Merlin deflated, sniffing slightly as he dropped his gaze to the floor. "I just...I just wanted to feel good. I wanted to be..." he gave a bitter laugh. "Not like me. Like you and Gwaine and the others...you can go out and have a laugh and have fun and be happy with who you are and I...I don't have that, Arthur. I just wanted to feel like I did, at least for one night."

Arthur stared at him, a heavy feeling in his chest. He hadn't even noticed Merlin felt anything like that. He knew he was shy and quiet...but he'd thought Merlin was content with the way he was. The fact that he hadn't even _noticed_...shit, he was a terrible friend.

"Alright," he said quietly. "That's...that's a conversation to have later, when the drug has worn off a bit. Right now, we're heading back to mine."

"What? No, just take me back to mine."

"Merlin, like I said, that pill could contain anything. You need to be kept an eye on until it's out of your system."

"No."

"Look," he muttered in irritation. "I'm not going to try anything, okay? I mean, for fuck's sake, you're off your head. I'm not going to try and grope you, I'm not some arsehole. And besides...I know you're straight, okay? I just want to be your friend."

"Alright," Merlin nodded. "Good. Friends, I like that. You can be a prat, Arthur, but you'd be a good friend. Yeah." A sudden look of realisation crossed his face and he _giggled_.

"What?"

"I think it is best I stay at yours," Merlin giggled again. "I left my keys in my dorm room."

"Bloody hell, Merlin."

Unfortunately, none of them had driven to the club since they'd all planned on drinking, and getting a bus or taxi wasn't an option considering Merlin's state. Which meant walking the mile home.

Arthur eyed Merlin's grinning face as they started down the pavement. Actually, maybe the walk would do him good.

**0**

The walk _did_ help; by the time they reached Arthur's halls of residence, Merlin had sobered quite a bit. The drug evidently faded from the system fast (clearly a way to get more money from punters – ensure the drug hit hard and fast and faded too soon, leaving the customer wanting more) and Merlin just seemed slightly out of it as Arthur guided him into his room and shut the door behind them.

"I'll sleep on the floor," he offered.

Merlin shook his head. "Nah, its fine. We're friends, right?"

"Right," Arthur cleared his throat.

There was a long pause before Arthur busied himself finding clothes for Merlin to sleep in. Merlin was slightly taller than him but skinnier, so the clothes would be a little loose. Still, he found a pair of old pyjama bottoms that should fit and could be tightened with a drawstring if they didn't and a T-shirt. He handed them to Merlin and grabbed another pair of pyjama bottoms. He turned his back as they shed their clothes and pulled on the pyjamas.

Arthur climbed into bed, immediately wishing he'd insisted on sleeping on the floor because his bed suddenly seemed much narrower and just because he was beyond elated to be friends with Merlin, he couldn't just magic away his crush on him in a mere matter of hours.

Merlin hesitated by the bed, clearly mirroring Arthur's uncertainty, and he sighed in exasperation.

"We're friends, _right_?" he parroted Merlin's words. "I'm not some bloody sexual predator, Merlin. I won't bite."

Merlin blanched. "Sorry, I wasn't...I mean, I know...sorry."

Arthur turned his back to face the wall and felt the bed dip as Merlin joined him under the covers. Arthur closed his eyes because, shit, his bed wasn't really made for two and Merlin clearly wasn't intending on lying with his head on the other end of the bed, making the whole scenario much more intimate than it should have been.

"Right, well," he cleared his throat, shifting away minutely to put space between them, even though the action caused him to press against the cold wall. "Night, then."

Merlin's answer was barely audible. "Night."

And, of course, that was when a rhythmic creaking started up on the other side of the thin wall. Arthur's eyes snapped open in the darkness; that noise was _way _too familiar and his heart sank. _Oh fuck, really? __**Tonight**__ of all nights_?

"_Yes_!" his neighbour called loudly, guttural. "Oh fuck, yes, right there...fuck, yeah, lick it..._fuck_!"

Arthur felt the blush creep up his neck as he stared at the wall less than an inch from his nose, eyes wide in horror. If the creaking and banging of a bed hitting said wall wasn't indication enough of what his neighbour was up to, the loud stream of sex talk pretty much cemented it. Their scenario was awkward enough without his neighbour getting it on loud enough for them to hear.

"Oh _god_, yes!" a female voice cried out, joining the man's steady flow of grunts, groans, and the occasional, "_yeah, yeah, yeah_."

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, willing the ground to open up and swallow him. He couldn't tell how Merlin was reacting to this and he didn't dare turn to look. He kept absolutely still, praying that it would be over fast and they could pretend like they'd never heard anything.

Then, out of nowhere, another male voice joined the tandem of moans, grunting out loudly before calling, "_Oh fuck_".

It seemed his neighbour liked guys too. And was currently having a threesome. Several different scenarios of how that would work popped unbidden into Arthur's mind and he gritted his teeth as his dick took interest.

And then Merlin was laughing, shaking the bed with his chuckles, and Arthur couldn't help but join in, rolling onto his back as he gave into the sheer _can you believe it_ quality of the situation. They laughed together for far too long, drowning out the noises from next door, and when they finally settled down, there was nothing but silence.

Merlin gave one last weak chuckle before murmuring, "Goodnight, Arthur."

Arthur turned his head to look at him. He couldn't see in the darkness, but he knew Merlin was smiling at him.

"Goodnight, Merlin."

**0**

He woke slowly, drowsily, feeling coldness against his front and heat against his back. A comforting weight was curled around him and it was far too nice to be disturbed, so he put his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes to sleep some more.

It was then that he felt the erection pressed against his arse.

His eyes shot open again and he stared at the wall he was pressed against for a long moment, stunned as he let the situation sink in. Merlin was still asleep, curled around him from behind...and had an erection. Not that it meant anything...I mean, most guys woke up with morning wood, it wasn't necessarily because he was sharing a bed with Arthur...but _fuck_, it was pressed against his arse and his own dick was definitely happy about that.

"Merlin," he murmured, trying to wake him.

Merlin moaned as he stirred, hand sliding over Arthur's leg to his front – and _shit_, it brushed his crotch as it went and Arthur felt like he'd been electrocuted. He hissed a breath through his teeth and caught Merlin's hand, lifting his arm so he could turn to face the other man.

"Merlin," he repeated, louder.

Merlin slowly opened his eyes, looking exhausted, but they widened as he became more alert and realised exactly what was happening. He studied Arthur, completely still, and Arthur didn't let go of his hand, though he loosened his grip. He was sure Merlin was going to bolt at any second and, yep, that would be the end of their friendship. Fucking morning boners.

But then something shifted in Merlin's expression and he wriggled closer on the bed. Arthur's breath caught but it was almost organic, the step so completely natural after so long of being unsure where he stood with Merlin, and suddenly they were both reaching for each other, closing the gap between their mouths.

Merlin's kisses were sloppy and badly controlled but Arthur curled one hand in his dark hair anyway, keeping his body close against his as he kissed him back firmly, slotting their mouths together and guiding Merlin with tongue and lips and a little bit of teeth. Merlin made a rumbling noise in his throat and Arthur tightened his hold on his hip in response.

"Merlin," he pulled back slightly to whisper. "Can...can I...?" he slid his hand over his hip, making his intention clear.

Merlin grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "No."

Arthur paused, eyeing him warily, sure this was the moment Merlin would back off. But Merlin smiled a little hesitantly and leaned in, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth.

"Just...just let me..." he murmured, releasing Arthur's wrist in favour of caressing his side. "I want to use my mouth."

Arthur closed his eyes, groaning. "Fuck, Merlin..."

Merlin pushed him until he was lying on his back and shoved the covers down. Between sloppy, uncoordinated kisses and caresses, Merlin tugged Arthur's pyjama bottoms off and straddled his thighs, shifting lower and lower as he peppered hot, open mouthed kisses down Arthur's torso.

Merlin didn't hesitate as he took Arthur in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his lip to keep quiet. It was obvious Merlin was inexperienced at this – he gagged at first before Arthur put a hand in his hair to guide him – and he was sloppy and unsure, but it didn't matter. It was _Merlin_ and that made it good – _too_ good, the wetness and heat ensuring that it was over hard and fast. Arthur tugged on Merlin's hair in warning before his hips bucked and he climaxed, swearing loudly.

He heard Merlin make a grossed out noise and through his blissed out, satisfied haze, he felt something warm and wet hit his stomach. He threw an arm over his eyes, working to catch his breath, and once he was more alert he blinked in realisation.

"Merlin?"

"...yeah?" there was something odd – strained – in Merlin's voice.

"Did you just spit my come onto my stomach?"

"...yeah."

He couldn't help it; he burst out laughing, hoarse, breathless chuckles as he let that sink in. Only Merlin.

It took him a moment to realise that Merlin wasn't laughing with him and his trembling wasn't from humour. He opened his eyes and sat up slightly, looking at the other man.

"Merlin?" he asked gently. "Are you alright?"

Merlin was pale, shivering, and his pupils were blown wide with horror. Arthur's heart sank but before he could reach out or say something to reassure Merlin, he shot to his feet and bolted into the en-suite toilet. Arthur heard him retching and the unmistakable sound of vomiting.

He grabbed his shirt form the floor and used it to clean himself up before heading into the toilet. Merlin was on his knees in front of the toilet, forehead pressed against the cold porcelain as he gasped for breath, his skinny frame wracked with shudders.

"Merlin?" he asked hesitantly.

There was no response and Merlin didn't raise his head.

"Is sucking my dick really that revolting?" he attempted to joke.

Merlin did look at him then and it was like a punch to the gut. Realisation hit him hard; it wasn't a hangover that was causing Merlin's sickness. He was throwing up because of what he'd just done.

"Oh," he whispered, sliding down the wall to sit with a low _thud_. "Right."

But..._why_? Was it him? Was being attracted to Arthur really so devastating?

"Merlin?" he asked quietly. "Are you gay?"

"_No_."

Merlin's voice was quiet but the raw, burning anger behind it was like thunder. Arthur took a deep, shuddering breath, gazing at Merlin as things started clicking into place.

"But..."

"I'm not a fucking bender, alright?"

Arthur recoiled at that. If there was one thing he hated, it was anti-gay language like that. But he knew Merlin didn't mean it, not really. He was friends with Arthur, had known he was gay but still got on well with him. He didn't hate homosexuals, had nothing against it...only when it was _him _that was gay that he had a problem. But _why_?

"Who?" he asked quietly.

Merlin flinched at that but whispered, "My father."

Arthur closed his eyes, resting his head against the cold tile wall. _Shitting fuck_. He hadn't even noticed anything amiss, but here it was: Merlin had internalised homophobia and apparently it was due to his father.

Arthur's own father had been a little uncomfortable with his sexuality at first but had come to accept and support it. He hadn't had any issues with his sexuality and he couldn't imagine what it was like to have homophobia drummed into you, forced to suppress your sexuality, especially by your own father.

"Merlin..."

The dark haired man was on his feet in a second, dragging his shaking hands through his hair. He paced the three steps between the walls once, twice, before stopping, sniffling a little.

"I-I...I have to go, I have to..." he brushed past Arthur and didn't bother to change, instead leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.

Arthur let him go.

* * *

**a/n: this chapter was kind of hard to write because I've been through something similar (not in terms of unsupportive parents but in trying to surpress by sexuality) and had similar thoughts about trying to escape my own head, though I didn't do anything as drastic as drugs. I don't know...I hope it's okay. Please let me know.**


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